


Elevated Kisses

by the_queen_of_cringe



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 10:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12910428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_queen_of_cringe/pseuds/the_queen_of_cringe
Summary: Pretty self-explanatory. Penny shags you in an elevator.





	Elevated Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [all clown fuckers](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=all+clown+fuckers).



He pressed up closer against you, his fangs and beginning traces of drool only a few breaths away from you. You could feel his hot breath lapping against your face, could feel the throughly famished hunger for your touch radiating off of his being. He towered over you, and you had absolutely nowhere to turn; you were pressed up against the elevator wall, his face only inches from yours. You could see the pleasure in his eyes as he saw how embarrassed you were that he was putting on a show in front a several packed strangers, all of them clearly uncomfortable as they pretended to face the elevator door, doing their best to ignore the poor cornered victim that that clown was lusting over, some of them occasionally casting over a worried glance or two to see what was causing such an intoxicated and hot, pleasure filled aroma.

“Silly girl, you thought you could get to your appointment without a visit from ol Pennywise?” he teased you, his hot breath seething through his fangs, the vibrations from his voice tickling your ear, his rough voice barley a whisper, just loud enough that you could hear it. You bite your lip hard, trying to ignore the increasing wetness that was forming between your thighs, clutching your fingers hard against the golden rail behind you to distract from the pulsing desire you felt to fuck him right then. As much as you didn’t want to, seeing him so close, feeling his weight and the monstrosity that was his manhood hardening and feeling up against your vagina was too much for you to resist. You wanted him, bad, just as badly as he was thirsting for you in that moment. You gasped as he suddenly grabbed your crotch with force, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, trying your best not to let out a scream of pleasure and excitement. This task only became harder as he began to quickly remove your pants down to your knees, then moving to your panties with quick, inhuamne skill, his large tall form blocking your half naked body from view of the others. Even the clown had at least of sense of decency even in the midst of his heat, it seemed. He let out a loud cackle at your expression, your forced masking of how much physical pleasure you were really feeling amusing him beyond what he could handle. He loved this, loved torturing his little human with these emotions your kind experienced such as this “embarrassment”. He knew you didn’t want him doing this, which is exactly why he was doing it. He lunged forward and began to cover your neck with hot, burning red hickies, the wetness of the insides of his plump, soft, rich red lips leaving traces of moisture on your increasingly bruised skin, your suppressed, soft moans following behind them softly. This action only lead him to lust for you more, his fangs becoming more prominent and larger, dripping with saliva at your scent and desire, and they began to scrape against your skin, leaving whispers and hisses of scratches along every pore of your neck and protruding veins. As he was doing this the fingering he was given you with his long, slender fingers only grew more intense; he began to thrust his finger in and out of your vagina, each thrust leaving you with a new wave of pleasure. You fought against the urge to moan out in pain as the sensation of his hot breath and hefty fingering only left you wanting more. You began to sweat, both from the arousal of the sexual stimulation as well as the pressure from resisting the urge to succumb to your physical desire to thrust your hands from the golden rail they were clutching on and thrust them instead onto the clown’s back, digging your fingers into the clown’s skin and you teared at his suit, leaving your own markings on his body; a ritual that the two of you had begun to share in this heated relationship.

Your desire for him right now was so strong it almost drove you mad, and you could feel a mutual burning of passion from the clown too. Your legs were shaking, were buckling under the pressure of him leaning his weight onto you as he himself struggled against the urge to tear of his suit and thrust his manhood into your fully. Out of the corner of your eyes you could see the people packed behind you starting to seem concerned, some taking a few glances into your general direction for a quick second to check if the two strange people in this elevator were, in fact, sane, and that the strange man in the clown suit was, in fact, not killing you. You watched the numbers blink from one number to another on the elevator screen; First floor, second floor, third floor….this was a huge building; a whooping eighteen feet, and your were going straight to the top. Each heated second only make each resisted urge more torturous, dragging out the elevator ride to what seemed like ages; a bittersweet, tortuous lust chamber.

After a few more moments, simple intense fingering became too little for Pennywise’s hunger. He let out a low growl, a beastly one, his deep blue eyes turning to a crazed gold, his plump lips finally bringing themselves up from their work on your neck, now radiating red, some already turning to purple. He gazed at you madly with his fangs spilling from his crimson lips, saliva dripping from each one, his eyes looking at your with a hunger so fierce that your heart stopped for a beat, daring you to refuse him. Without even getting a chance to process what was happening, his lunged forward at you, his slithering penis roaring out of his pants right before he thrusted it into you; you couldn’t suppress the moan this time; you let out a soul shattering howl, partly out of rage that he would have the nerve to do this to you in public, partly out of pure, insanely satisfying pleasure. You thrust your head back against the fluffy red elevator wall, your mouth forming a large “O”, no longer caring about what the others were thinking or if they were staring. His penis filled you up so much that you couldn’t physically take it; the wetness dripped down your thighs, your whole body was shaking uncontrollably. In the background of your fuzzy head you could vaguely hear the “ding” sound that came with every new floor reached, but you were not longer counting the numbers; you let yourself go completely. You let go of the bars and succumbed to your earlier fantasy of digging your nails into his back, letting go of your death grip on the golden bar and clutching your fingers against the thickness of his suit. He let out a moan and thrusted you up off the floor and supported your weight in his arms while your moisturized back arched against the wall, slick with sweat, thrusting you up and down excessively all the while. Each thrust was more intense, bringing you a mixture of pain and pleasure, with Pennywise’s own growls of delight and raging lust accompanying you. His head was level with yours; you made eye contact with his furious, famished stare as his eyes bore into you, never once breaking eye contact as he continued to shove himself into you, the combination of his pre-cum and your own wetness forming a puddle on the floor.  
You could tell he was about to come; his eyes began to take on that animalistic hunger; they began to roll to the sides of his head as what was left of his face began to transform into a monstrous split of teeth and an incredibly intense light, shining brighter than the sun. Your own orgasm was coming on; you could feel the tingles begin to gather up in the tips of your fingers and your toes. You clutched your fingers harder against his back, breaking the tough skin and cloth that rested there. The pleasure began to build up inside of you; it felt so good that it started to hurt, but it was a hurt so heavenly and so rich that you found yourself begging not to let go of the sensation. Tremors, little blips of divine pleasure, pulled you to absolute ecstasy. You then felt Pennywise explode in your thighs as his thrusts became more intense, his cum running down your legs as if someone has poured a bucket of it over you. You let out a shuddering breath, and there was a few moments of complete stillness between the two of you, both of your in absolute shock between the physical heaven the both of you had just experienced.

The final “ding” went off in the elevator, and you were here; the eighteenth floor, late for your meeting. You tried to look at Pennywise, but he was staring at the side of the elevator, panting heavily, avoiding your gaze, a slight smirk on his fruity red rich lips. You looked behind him for a quick second, and two traumatized victims of your interaction were staring at you both, wide-eyed and dumfounded. They rest must have left, the lucky ones who exited before your….performance had gotten so intense.  
“Fuck…” You started to gasp between words, still catching your breath, sweat dripping from your brow. “….You.”  
The clown let out one of his rough, deep throat cackles, then he turned towards you again to crash his lips against yours, the pressure of them sure to leave you with a bruise the following morning. Great. Another thing to explain to your boss.

“Ooohh….what’s the fun in having a little darling if I don’t get them into trouble every now and then?” he sneered, his nose crinkled up in amusement, nuzzling against the tip of yours playfully. You rolled your eyes, trying your best not to fall as your still trembling legs struggled to support your sore body as you leaned down to grab your suit onto your side.

“Alright, Penny,” you sighed, trying to pretend that the interaction hadn’t utterly exhausted your legs, sore and feeling like you had just run a marathon, like your head wasn’t still spinning with ecstasy. “If I get fired for the hickies on my neck, you’re never going to stop hearing about it.”  
“Oh, don’t worry, little one,” he cackled, burying his face into your neck as you tried to leave. “I’ll be right there with you. You’ll feel me pressed up against you, you’ll see.”  
You just barley managed to push him off as you raced out the elevator door, just before they closed.


End file.
